


Napkins

by napkins



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: M/M, Napkin Fic, Oooh Mr. Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-07 00:01:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20300116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/napkins/pseuds/napkins
Summary: Peter should maybe do his work somewhere Mr. Stark can't run into him.





	Napkins

**Author's Note:**

  * For [syrupwit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/syrupwit/gifts).

“What’cha got there, kid?”

Peter jumped approximately a mile out of his chair, just barely missing spilling his coffee through too-fast reflexes, surprised he hadn’t heard Mr. Stark approach him at all. Too absorbed in his work, he guessed. “Oh, oh, um. Nothing?” He grinned, aiming for sheepish and shuffled the papers strewn across the coffee shop table into some semblance of a pile. “Just working on some new adjustments for the suit.”

Mr. Stark hummed, picking up the top piece of paper. At a quick glance, Peter was able to tell it was safe. That one really was just designs for adjustments, new types of webbing. There just happened to be...other things as well. 

“Not bad.” Mr. Stark rubbed at his chin absently, then tapped the paper he held. “You know you can come to me with these whenever you want, right? No need to scribble on coffee shop napkins,” he said, eyeing the pile and the napkins that were still sticking out, not having slid in nicely with the other papers. 

Peter felt himself flush. “Um, well. That’s a really nice offer, Mr. Stark, but I wouldn’t want to take up your time with whims and ideas that might not even go anywhere.”

“Kid, my entire life is whims and ideas that might not go anywhere but then do.” Peter flushed even more as Mr. Stark’s hand came down on his shoulder. He was too close - Peter could smell Mr. Stark’s aftershave, and he had to stop himself from breathing more deeply. “Let’s see some more of these.”

Distracted as he was by Mr. Stark’s proximity, Peter didn’t realize Mr. Stark was reaching for one of the napkins sticking out until it was too late. “No, I...,_ooh_, Mr. Stark, I don’t know if that one is any good…,” he trailed off hopelessly as he watched Mr. Stark take the napkin out of the stack. 

He could tell that Mr. Stark had read and seen what was on it by the way his eyes scanned it once, then twice. Peter squirmed in his seat slightly, wondering if it was possible to make an escape. But Mr. Stark’s hand was still on his shoulder - in fact, had it tightened? Oh no, he was in trouble.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark, I can burn it and we can pretend this didn’t happen, I—” 

“Pete,” Mr. Stark started, a note in his voice that might have been amusement, but seemed oddly strained. It didn’t seem to be anger or disgust, though, and Peter clung to that. He felt a little dizzy, which is why he didn’t catch Mr. Stark’s next words. 

“What?”

Mr. Stark breathed out slowly through his nose. Counting? Was he counting? Ohhh, Peter knew he’d be angry. “I said, bring the rest of the papers to the lab when you’re done here.” He put the napkin back on the table, leaned over Peter once more to write something in the corner, then stood up and strode out of the coffee shop, leaving Peter blinking after him.

There was a beat, then two, as the sounds from the rest of the coffee shop filtered back in. Still reeling, Peter leant over and looked at what Mr. Stark had written on the napkin.

His eyes resolutely did not look at his own writing, words like _could webbing be used for restraint —> bed? Quick dissolving so not stuck for 2 hours?_ and _what if mr. stark saw thru monitor?_ There were other napkins that were in similar veins, just ways to get the thoughts out of his head so he could focus on actual ideas that came of them, like timed dissolving of the webbing. But there, in the corner, Mr. Stark had written, with an arrow to Peter’s last comment: _Do you want me to?_

Peter looked at it, really _stared_ at it like it held some hidden meaning. Then, Mr. Stark’s words clicked in his brain. He stood up, scrambling everything together and shoving the whole thing, napkins and all, into his backpack. He had a lab to get to.

**Author's Note:**

> 90% of this was for the recursive napkins joke - blame Labocat for bringing it to my attention - but I hope you enjoy it all the same!


End file.
